The Weekend
by slenderpanda597
Summary: The Boswells are going on holiday. So is Martina. Not to the same location though, surely?


(a/n - so there's been a recent influx of fabulous additions to the Bread fandom, and I have regrettably been slack in any Bread-related fics. However, here I present to you an epic AU (because of the time differences of the settings) crossover of two of the most magnificent yet underappreciated britcoms around! Happy Halloween, fellow fans.)

The Weekend

The staffroom at Maplin's was filled with tired noise. The camp was waiting for its up and coming Halloween Spooktacular Festival, an event where the yellowcoats spent hours of their time hiding fake spiders in jellies and knocking on chalet doors in the middle of the night. And Ted spent his time thinking up Halloween mystery raffles and avoiding Jeffrey Fairbrother who would surely try and stop him. This year's weekend was going to be packed, with filled chalets for the whole weekend. Joe Maplin had apparently sent special free weekend stays to some government agencies and public services, in yet another generous and charming camp owner media manipulating move. The staff were glad to have their jobs though, as it could be difficult finding work in October, and so plastered smiles on their faces and worked hard. Spike was rehearsing funny Dracula impressions. Peggy was getting confused between dust and artificial cobwebs. Barry and Yvonne were practicing a dramatic piece to symbolise fear through dance. Gladys was confiscating the yellowcoats' skimpy costumes for the evening ball. Fred was trying to make his horses wear witches hats. All in all, things were as hectic as ever at Maplins.

Martina closed her eyes and sniffed pointedly.

"Ah yes, the most common aroma of the DHSS. Could it be Mister Boswell?" She smirked and opened her eyes, to be confronted with an arms flung wide enormous grinned

"Greetings!" She rolled her eyes.

"What brings yer 'ere today then? Another holiday to Rome? Grandad's budgie sick? Billy can't make sandwiches? Enlighten me." He laughed.

"Oh, sweetheart. Your cynicism could burn holes in this silk shirt of mine. Move in with me, and we could save fuel costs in winter when your remarks are as fiery as that." She held up her hand to stop his soliloquy.

"Mister Boswell. The point, please."

"Just a goodbye for now. You see, me and me fam-il-y have won a little competition run by some magazine Oswald had bought. So we won't be gracing your presence for a whole long weekend at the end of the month. Make the most of me now, sunshine." Martina smiled at his announcement.

"A whole long weekend without Boswells at all. My life is like a reverse Halloween. The scary stuff appears all year round, then disappears on Halloween night. Marvellous. On yer bike then."

"Ah! But you see, sunshine, as we are going on this holiday, our frail Grandad, the rock on which we all cling, the foundation of our modern heritage. He might need some, assistance, shall we say. And of course his canary and our beloved guard dog, that absolute necessity, Mongy, shall have to find somebody to look after them that specific weekend. And so we shall need a little assistance from you, dear lady. I was only reading a little pamphlet the other day about this sort of thing..." Martina rolled her eyes and slapped a form in front of him.

"Fill that in. Anything to keep you away from me for the whole weekend. NEXT!" Joey smiled at her and blew her a kiss.

"Goodbye, oh beautiful Martina." And with that, he sauntered out of the building, and somebody else filled the seat he had just vacated.

"Oi, you! Do yer know what's happened to me washing line?"

Kelsall Street was as busy as ever. People bustling around, getting excited about what sort of a holiday they'd have and how Oswald is a proper nice guy winning the competition and how is there a limit to the number of pairs of tights it is possible to own? The whole family were discussing their break at Maplin's, where they would partake in the whole of the Spooktacular Festival. When he entered, Joey was bombarded with questions.

"Joey, will I be able to wash me 'air? Coz I'm a model aren't I? And models have to have glamorous hair at all times, don't they?"

"Joey, tell your father that HE isn't invited, and neither is that woman because SHE IS A TART!"

"Ey Joey! Is it true that the campsite has horses because I read they can give you diseases and diseases are proper dangerous aren't they? They can infect yer arm and then they have to excavate it off don't they?"

"Will you listen to 'im! My sanity is 'angin by a fread! 'Angin by a fread! Oh I'll need this holiday!"

Joey looked at all of his relatives and smiled in a somewhat comforting way.

"Alright, alright, cut it! It'll all be fine, I've got it under control. Right? Right."

Meanwhile, at Maplin's, Gladys was entering the office of Jeffrey Fairbrother, Entertainments Manager.

"Jeffrey! Will you please tell the yellowcoats that fluffy devil outfits are not to be worn at the evening ball next weekend! And also the staff are waiting."

"Very good, Gladys. I shall be out shortly. I have a letter from Joe Maplin himself here to read." They exited the office, and Gladys clapped to get the attention of everybody.

"Mr Fairbrother has a letter from Mr Maplin to read. Quiet, please."

"Thank you, Gladys. Okay. Oi, you. Get a load of this. That's the letter, not me. The Halloween Spooktacular Festival is next weekend, and I've lost dosh on the tickets, as I've given them out. So I've just cut the budget. Less catering, less decoration. Get the campers out of the dining hall quick as and into some stuff. The pool can now be used for bobbing apples. Get that Welsh bit to clear some room. And the girls shall wear outfits that show their legs because they're what them campers see. Joe Maplin." Sylvia grinned at Gladys.

"So can we have our costumes back now while you clean the pool Gladys?"

"Certainly not!" Gladys replied. "Get your hands out of your pockets, Sylvia!"

Martina closed the filing cabinet with a resounding clang and made her way towards the office of her superior. She had been called into a meeting once work finished, and she was a little nervous. Smoothing down her blouse, she knocked on the door, and entered when instructed to.

"Sit down, please." Martina did as she was told. "Now, Martina. We got given this, and we drew lots, and your name came out. Enjoy." The manager smiled and handed her an envelope before dismissing her. When she got home, Martina opened it.

'Joe Maplin cordially invites you to spend a free weekend at his Halloween Spooktacular Festival at his holiday camp in Crimpton-on-Sea! Congratulations! Events timetable, tickets and train times enclosed.' Martina scrutinised the letter. It was all very genuine, and though a Halloween event didn't sound especially appealing to her, the idea of some time away from Liverpool did. She shrugged at her own luck. She never got anything good out of life. The Boswells, bad relationships, her job. Nothing was ever straightforward in her life. And now she had won a holiday. Perhaps things were looking up for her after all.

"Will the house be alright? Will Mongy be alright? Will we be alright?" Nellie flapped as the whole Boswell entourage boarded the train. They took up an entire carriage to themselves, and after nearly being very late, they were lucky to find an empty one near the back. Oswald was meekly studying the timetable of events in the corner of the compartment, with Aveline trilling what a lucky man he was to win such a fabulous holiday beside him. Billy was getting much too overexcited, to the dismay of Adrian and his many threads, and Jack was slouched in a corner. Joey was trying to keep things under control by ordering the luggage onto the train.

Martina arrived to the train station early, and boarded the train as soon as it arrived, making herself comfortable in a quiet compartment towards the front of the train. Reading a novel, she smiled to herself. She hadn't realised how much she needed a good holiday.

"Honestly Barry, I have no idea why Mr Maplin believes making us wear these childish outfits will appeal to people!" Yvonne huffed to her husband as they made their way to the train station to greet the guests with the rest of the staff. Everyone was wearing spiders and streamers and supposedly spooky adornments in order to ensure that Maplin's Spooktacular Festival went ahead without a hitch. Yvonne, however, was not happy with the fact that her neatly pressed ball gown now looked 'dusty, common and cheap'. She didn't have much more time to worry, however, as the train pulled in, and hundreds of screaming campers piled off, ready to head to their chalets on the buses provided.

Joey handed the luggage to a couple of girls with long legs and short shorts, before picking up the rest himself. He could see how Jack was looking them up and down eagerly.

"Ey, sweetheart, what's yer name?" He addressed the one with the longest legs. She smiled.

"Sylvia. And this is Betty. How do you do? I shall look forward to seeing you this week - maybe things will go bump in the night." She winked, and Joey stifled his laughter at her manner. Right up Jack's street. Well, that would be one of them busy. Now all he had to do was

"BILL-EE!" He called the youngest Boswell over from where he had been wandering off aimlessly, and shepherded him towards the buses. "Come on son, come on..."

Martina started. She could swear she knew that voice. That persuasive and charming voice. That voice that politicians would be proud of when it wasn't throwing greetings everywhere. The tall man carrying her luggage (Mike? Tike? Spike? His name had slipped her memory) stopped telling jokes about Pinocchio and asked if she was okay. Shaking her head to clear it, she nodded. Honestly, she thought. Those bloody Boswells were invading her mind. She needed to have a holiday free of them. That would be best. She continued towards the second bus which had pulled up.

The ballroom was crowded for the first evening. Ted Bovis got lots of laughs for his routine, and his specifically adapted for the event famous people on the toilet routine got roaring laughs when Count Dracula and Frankenstein turned up in the mix. Barry and Yvonne's dance was also successful, and to everybody who worked at Maplin's shock, Spike even got a few laughs as a funny ghost. Gladys smiled next to Jeffrey.

"Oh, Jeffrey. They're all really enjoying themselves. This weekend is going to be fabulous," she moved closer to him, and he shook slightly.

"Yes, yes, Gladys, I agree. Now, I must get back to my office, if you'll excuse me." He promptly disappeared into the throngs of people, who soon after all dispersed to their chalets after their first goodnight campers of the holiday.

"Good morning, campers. Hi de hi!" The voice trilled over the sound system. Joey mumbled a barely coherent 'ho de ho' before his ears were assaulted by the voice once more. "Now, today, haven't we got a fun and fright filled agenda for you. After breakfast, made by our cordon bleu chef Bert Green, there will be children's creepy craft in the Hawaiian ballroom, followed by a trick or treat treasure hunt..." Joey tuned out, and set about dressing and washing for the day. He exited his chalet, and saw Aveline and Oswald exiting next door, and Adrian and Jack on the other side. Billy, meanwhile, was still sleeping (alone, Julie had pulled out at the last minute, so now Billy had a chalet to himself), and Nellie, he presumed, was getting ready too, and Grandad was already tottering his way towards the dining room. Joey thought wistfully of his Jag back in Liverpool, and prayed that nobody had touched it.

'The early bird catches the worm' Martina thought as she was one of the first to get her breakfast. Soggy cornflakes and milk, granted, but it was a change from making her own. She ate the food rather quickly, to avoid being assaulted by the camp host who was doing rounds of the tables. She had seen his act the previous evening, and had felt that it took toilet humour to the extremes. She got up, and made her way to the stables. The idea of a pony trek appealed to her, and she had decided that she would join the first one. The riding instructor was stroking a white horse softly when she arrived.

"Shh... Shh... They won't put you in soup, they won't! You're my baby, you are..." She coughed pointedly, and he looked up.

"Oh! 'ello! Would you like to pick one of the ponies outside? Then we will get started!" She joined the troupe of mostly children and females, and sat on her horse. She had been on a donkey before at some school fete, and had quite forgotten the feeling of being on horseback. She smiled as she thought of the other clerks who would be sat filling out forms as she ambled through the sand dunes on horseback.

The yellowcoats grabbed a quick cup of coffee as they took a break from entertaining the guests. Spike, meanwhile, was drying himself off in his chalet after being chucked in the pool as a funny ghost. He couldn't say the white sheeting had been his best choice of costume. Peggy came in.

"There you are! Warmish towels and a laundry basket for the sheets. Mind, Miss Cathcart was wonderin' where some had got to, so I had to keep me trap shut so she thought it was the campers again!" She stopped as Spike bent double upon her entrance. She realised his white outfit had gone quite see through, and laughed at his modesty. "Oh, give over! I've seen it all before as a chalet maid! Some of them blokes wear nothin' to bed! And I don't know what yer fussin' about - you've a nice body anyway!" She stopped as he blushed, and began to dress once more. Peggy was fond of Spike, and only wished that he would get more appreciation from Ted and the others. "Ta-ra then!" She called chirpily, before going to do the rounds on the chalets.

Martina sunbathed outside her chalet. There had actually been an afternoon of sun in the late October, so she had decided to make the most of it whilst all of the other campers were gathered around the pool for a spooky spaghetti sucking session. Apparently some of the sauces were flavoured with curry powder and mustard and the like, so she was avoiding getting involved at all costs. Little did she know, another camper was having a stroll around the chalets, and she didn't see the white shirt and leather trousers notice her from one end of the accommodation, before grinning and disappearing again.

Ted sidled in and out of the campers, rejoicing in the good mood they were all in after the spaghetti spectacle. He was making loads with his raffle, and was now selling rare bangles to people. He approached a male sat by the pool.

"Excuse me? I couldn't help noticing that you've been a hit with the ladies, and what about treating one with this rare gold bangle? I haven't wanted to give it away, mind, it was me old mother's. But you look deserving." He flashed the bracelet before the man, who took it and smiled.

"Ey, yeah, it looks real nice! Hang on, I've seen these before! Scroats flog 'em in the city ten fer a quid or two, then they pretend they're gold. This is a scam, ain't it?" Ted snatched the bangle back hastily.

"Shush!"

"I deal in antiques, mate. Hard luck." The fellow said, and as Ted walked away he heard him say "Ey, where's Joey? I didn't get scammed for once! Yeah!"

It was Halloween night, and Martina was in her chalet, avoiding the costume ball in the Hawaiian ballroom. She only had a little over a day left at the campsite, and was trying to relax and not get caught up in the shenanigans going on. All of a sudden, there was a knock at her door.

"If that's one o' them bloody yellowcoats saying hi de hi..." She thought as she opened it, before stopping dead.

"Greetings!" Martina couldn't believe her eyes, but was still able to utter a

"I thought it was trick or treat at this time o' year?" He laughed, and paraded inside her chalet. She closed the door and pressed herself against it. "What, Mister Boswell, are you doing?" She asked. He grinned.

"Holidaying. If you remember me saying so, we claimed, remember? And I just happened to see you sunbathing the other day... Although you weren't in suitable clothing, I must say." He grinned. She quipped

"I suppose a leather bikini is more your style?"

"Exactly, sunshine, exactly. Look forward to Christmas." She shook her head and he winked.

"Why have you paid me a visit?"

"Because you are alone in a two person chalet, as am I. So shall we make up for that?"

"Are you drunk, Mister Boswell?"

"Only on the festivities. Now, oh ghoul of my worst nightmares, feel free to give me a taste of the fear that falls from your lips."

"Taxman, do you mean?" She smiled, and her heart beat faster as he came closer and dipped his head to her.

"Dearest Martina, what happens on Halloween night, stays on Halloween night." And he kissed her. And she was kissing him, her heart beating behind her ears and his arms around her waist as they fell backwards onto the cheap chalet bed. She couldn't quite comprehend that she was actually kissing Joey Boswell, but it felt rather nice, and the holiday atmosphere was messing with her mind a little. As she realised that he probably wouldn't be leaving anytime soon, and she wouldn't be letting him if he tried, she let go of all reasoning, and decided to see what the night would bring.

"Good morning campers. Hi de hi!" The Welsh voice trilled over the speakers. Joey made to turn over then remembered that he was in Martina's chalet, with her curled up next to him, in a similar half naked state to him. She opened her eyes groggily and saw him looking down at her. Pulling the flimsy sheets to her neck, she drowsily acknowledged his presence.

"Mister Boswell... I thought the demons are meant to be gone by November morning?"

"This one is here a bit longer, sunshine."

Billy hammered on Joey's chalet door, annoyed that his brother wasn't opening up. Peggy rounded the corner and saw him.

"Ey, you! Have you seen our Joey? It's just that I've been thinkin' about me estrangled wife and child Samantha and I need to ask 'im summat?"

"Is he the blonde one?" Peggy asked. Upon Billy's nod, she smiled. "Ahh, I saw him in a gal's chalet earlier, all snuggled up they were. You'll have to wait. Ta-ra!" She winked and was on her way. Billy shrugged and headed to breakfast. They were going home today.

"Everybody sorted?" Joey asked upon getting all the luggage into Kelsall Street.

"Thank you, everybody, for a wonderful holiday. Before it, my artistic muse was hanging by a thread. Now, I feel like I could compose a thousand poems!" Adrian declared, swanning into the parlour. Joey smiled, and was about to leave, when Billy piped up.

"Ey, Joey! Apparently you slept with a girl on holiday! Was it one of them workers? Because doin' that to ger privileges is called binary, that is!" Joey coughed slightly, and turned to Billy.

"Calm down son, I don't know where yer heard that, but I wouldn't listen to it... Now, if you excuse me, I have a meeting about something DHSS related..."

~finite~

(a/n - wow, that was bad. Sorry. Anyhow, this is also Macarons And Muffins' prize for winning my fanfiction competition! Sorry it isn't what you may have wanted [and I know I promised a just Bread fic so sorry], but it is something, I guess. A lot of joetina, and some not so subtle leather bikini references... I am so sorry...)


End file.
